


5 times Roy went to yoga

by whatislove (NuageNuageux)



Category: Ted Lasso (TV)
Genre: Explicit Language, Gen, No Sex, Non-Consensual Touching, Some Plot, Swearing, the mature tag is just here for the language tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-04
Updated: 2021-01-04
Packaged: 2021-03-15 00:32:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28554678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NuageNuageux/pseuds/whatislove
Summary: What the title said !
Relationships: Keeley Jones/Roy Kent
Comments: 6
Kudos: 32





	5 times Roy went to yoga

**Author's Note:**

> Hello to all ! First, I'd like to thanks my friends, Léa, for telling me to watch the show, for her support and being a gem with answers to all my questions, and Dory, who proofread this and helped me with grammatical errors and everything else. I haven't written in english for the last couple of years so thank you very much !  
> What you need to know : I abuse of commas and Darlene is a perv. 
> 
> Enjoy !

**5 times Roy went to Yoga**

*1*

What a bloody fucking joke. When his physio told him that yoga could cure his backache, increase his flexibility and that it would be good for his abs, Roy thought that this way madness lies. 

Seriously? Who would have thought that on this fine Wednesday night of March, Roy Kent would find himself in a yoga studio, half an hour from Richmond? But there he was. Standing in front of _Yoga to feel it_ , established in 1968 in the heart of Hammersmith, in a decrepit building with peeling red paint on the front and windows blackened by air pollution. 

If the name wasn’t as tacky, Roy could find some humour in it. Except right now? He only wanted to go back to his sister’s flat and play with Phoebe, and to forget the mess he’d made of himself. Even if that meant being stuck in a teeny tiny chair with a sparkling crown in his hair, feather boa on his shoulders pretending to drink tea with the Queen and speaking like a posh cunt. 

He’d studied every studio in the city. He had to find one where there weren't any youngish people - he knew that 30 something years old would recognize him sooner rather than later - and far away from the club to not cross paths with any of his teammates. He needed to stay incognito at all costs. If one of these fucking tabloids had any pictures of him in yoga pants, he didn’t know how the supporters would react. But he assumed that they would be total twats about this, just like they had been when Matt Lindbergh - an old teammate of his - had to have a rhinoplasty because of a bad punch right in his fucking nose. He’d still been called Pinocchio until he retired three years later. 

Roy took a deep breath through his nose, tightening his jaw like a nutcracker, groaning in his throat. Could he really do it? If he waited long enough, he knew that someone would see him… but he really, _really,_ didn’t want to go _._

With a last grunt, he pushed the door to _Yoga to feel it_ and entered the building, leaving behind him the noise of the streets and the cold breeze of the early spring.

To say he was surprised by the inside of the studio was an understatement.

Lights were pouring from the ceiling, illuminating everything with a golden halo. The walls were white and mostly bare, except for some posters with garish colours and stupid yoga slogans like “Do yoga, enjoy life!” and some “Yoga is a light which once lit will never dim”. Could someone puke from the cheesiness of it all? 

The wooden floor creaked beneath his feet as he walked to the main office, looking for anybody who could - _ugh_ \- give him some information about the classes. On one hand, he really hoped he was too late to begin tonight, but on the other… He doubted he would find the strength to come back at a later date. Oh, what a shame it would be. 

“Hello, young man! Can I help you?”

Roy turned around in a flash. In front of him stood a little old lady, with bright pink hair and striking blue eyes. She was wearing a purple shirt and assorted yoga pants, a flashy pink mat under her arm and a water bottle in her hand. 

Well, at least she didn’t say anything about his arse… Roy prayed that his bottom would stay far away from grabby hands, but he knew that his glutes were juicy enough to attract all kinds of perverted ladies. So really, only time would tell. 

Anyway, right now, this lady in particular seemed nice enough to help him navigate through the mysteries of the yoga lessons, so he took his chances.

“I want to take yoga lessons.”

Roy saw the little lady squint and pinch her lips, her grip tightening on her bottle, assessing him. Oops, maybe he should try with less growling in his voice.

She stood there, staring at him for one more second, before smoothing her brow and throwing a large smile at him. 

“Well, lucky you, you’re in the right place! The name’s Maureen. I’m one of the oldest students here. Been coming since the opening.”

He furrowed his brows.

“And you’re still here? Aren’t you… a pro or something?”

Shit. This was supposed to be a beginner’s class! Did he read the website wrong? Would he be among little old ladies flexible enough to make him look like a stupid stick of wood? Fuck, this would be so humiliating. Roy felt the growling coming back with a force. And to think there was the new James Bond on tv tonight… Fucking fuck. 

Maureen waved a hand innocently and shook her head. Her hair bounced from left to right with the movement. 

“Oh, you know, when you reach my age, even the simplest of postures is a nightmare. My hips aren’t what they used to be. I need to go slow now.”

Roy’s left eye twitched. 

“Mmmh.”

Without further ado, she walked towards him and took him by the arm.

“Come on, I’ll introduce you! You’ll see, the lessons are fun. Miranda is a good teacher, even though she talks way too much for us to meditate properly.”

They reached a wooden door, behind which Roy could hear chatter and smooth jazz music. He hated jazz with a passion. 

“And Darlene will try to hit on you, so don’t hesitate to tell her to fuck off, she’s used to it. Unless you like blond women in their late sixties with a perm and fake tits. Well,” Maureen said in a hushed voice, “she’s rather pretty for her age I suppose. Oh! And Gladys will hate you at first, but it’s only because you’ve got a penis, don’t worry your pretty little head about it. She’ll come around.“  
  


*2*

Tonight, it was a session for inner peace. That would be really fucking funny if it wasn’t so sad. Or maybe, it was just destiny. Destiny and bums in the air, apparently.

Roy listened carefully as Miranda conducted her lesson, inhaling at the right time, chin up and belly open trying to mimic the cat pose, but he just couldn’t concentrate. He felt absolutely ridiculous and exposed as his arse was presented like this, and he knew, _he knew,_ that Darlene was looking at it. He could _feel_ it. 

Bloody hell, next week he would go far away from her and her perverted eyes. That, and Miranda’s grating voice was particularly trying for his nerves, plus the inflexion of her “breathe in with intention” was just a recipe to make him angrier by the second. Of fucking course, he breathed with intention! Generally, the intention to not _die_! What the flying fuck did that even mean? 

Seriously, he’d had a really shitty day, where every little thing was just an excuse to feel his blood rushing through his veins, his temper ready to burst like a volcano. 

“If you like, you can inhale lots of love in, opening through the chest, and exhale, lots of love out…”

Roy felt like crying. 

“Are you okay?”

He closed his eyes in a desperate effort to stay calm, and turned his head to his right. Maureen was watching him with… what? Concern? In her eyes? as she lifted herself in the downward dog position. He followed suit, keeping his feet flat on his mat, and breathed loudly through his nose.

“Yeah, yeah…”

But no, he was not. How could he? He would never be okay now that Ted fucking Lasso came into his world. Why did that bloody cowboy have to be hired at Richmond’s club?

Ted Lasso, with his fucking moustache and his stupid smile - always smiling like a bloody moron with two brain cells playing flipper inside his tiny little brain - was a fucking wanker. And Roy? Roy hoped the day Ted Lasso would go fuck himself on the other side of the planet with a bag of cannibal leeches would come sooner than ….

“And now, people, time to partner it up!” 

Wait, what? God, no! No, no no! No fucking way! Did he really look like someone who would touch sweaty people voluntarily? In such a context? 

Immediately, Darlene cast him a look. “Hey Roy, wanna be the dog to my down?” she asked, a lewd smile on her bright ruby lips. Some sweat was trickling along her cheeks, and her runny mascara gave her a demented panda look. Roy didn’t even try to hide a shudder. 

“What the fuck does that even mean?” He mumbled with a scowl.

He turned his head, trying to catch Maureen’s eyes, but to no avail. She was already talking to Gladys - an imposing black woman who could take him in a fight easily if he judged her by the size of her biceps - positioning herself in the triangle pose as she demonstrated her moves to her friend.

It seemed that everyone in the room had found their yoga partner, except for Roy and Darlene. 

Did he do something to God? Had he disrespected Her in any way? Maybe he was paying for his shitty father. Or for the one time he spit in Jamie’s drink. Or that time he scratched Jamie’s car with his key. Or when he… anyway. It must be karma. Like karma, but with stakes. 

As Darlene joined her mat to Roy’s, he heard Miranda carry on her speech.

“So, one of each group will do the downward dog. Don’t worry, we will take turns. Don’t forget to breathe! In through the nose, out through the mouth...”

“Come on, Handsome, show me your moves!”

Roy threw her his darkest glare, but Darlene just stood there, smug like the cat that got the creamy canary. Ugh, if he must… He took place on the mat begrudgingly. 

“And now, as your partner is staying stable and focused on their pose… Place your hands on their lower back, at the base of their spine. Take a step backwards. Your partner will put their hands on your feet, keeping you grounded to the earth…”

Oh my fucking god. Now he had to put his hands on her _feet_? Biting his lips to keep the bile inside his throat, he placed his palms as Miranda said, covering Darlene’s painted toes from his view. Ugh, he should have brought his hand sanitizer for after the session… Would he be able to wait until he came home to take a shower? 

“Rolling the shoulders back and down, lengthen your spine…Feel the energy going through your bodies. You’re connected, your bodies are like one…”

“I sure would love to be more… connected to your body,” Darlene whispered loudly.

And sure enough, her hands went up and up until they reached his backside. She pinched and groped his arse not so subtly for a second, then she hummed happily. She must have been pleased by what she had felt in her hands.

“Send your hips back to the room and partners, roll your biceps out and up, guiding the hips wide and back.”

“Oh God, fuck me,” Roy grunted.

“Well, as you’re asking it so nicely!” Darlene said in a flirty tone. 

“Now feel the inner edge of the thigh… Let’s bring it down slowly…”

As she put her hands on his legs just a little too close to his private parts, Roy rolled to the floor and stood up like a spring, letting his partner fall to the floor like a sack of potatoes. 

“No, sorry but I can’t! Fuck that, fuck this shit, and fuck you Darlene!”

With these last parting words, Roy took his mat and left the studio in a rush. He really, _really_ tried to ignore the “Oh, I wish” he heard from behind him.

  
  
  


*3*

  
  


It’d been at least 40 minutes since the beginning of today’s session, and he had had enough. 

Once again, Darlene’s eyes were on him, even if it seemed like she was more attuned to his feelings of anger and distress than the last time they were both in the same room doing the bridge pose. Right now, they were at the back of the room, and Darlene turned her head towards him. 

“So, it had come to my attention that I was a little too…”

“Pervy? A sex maniac? A bloody fucking sociopath?”

Roy lifted his heels up and lowered his hips slowly back to his mat. Did she really have to do this right now? Couldn’t she have said anything during the warrior or the tree pose? 

On his right, Maureen let a laugh escape her mouth. She’d looked a little tense these last few weeks, and even more since the last session. She had confessed to Roy she was feeling a little guilty to let him get Darlene as a partner, when she knew her friend was a little bit too... excited to be in the presence of a male specimen. 

Of course, he didn’t hold any grudge towards her, but to be in the vicinity of Darlene was just a torture he didn’t want to subject himself to. 

Right until now, when she apparently saw for the error of her ways and apologized as if she was being treated by a dentist. 

“I promise I won’t ogle you as if you were a rotisserie chicken or any piece of juicy meat. I’ll become vegan if that’s what it takes.”

She winked at him before laying down on her mat and spreading herself like a starfish. On the other side of the room, Miranda was making rounds between the students, taking their hands and feet to place them in correct poses. Roy had stopped listening to her two minutes ago and was completely lost. What were they supposed to do now? 

He tried to peak at Maureen, but she seemed elsewhere, eyes closed and her knees bent to her chest. 

Well, at least Gladys still hated him. That was a constant that Roy didn’t know what to make of. 

“What’s the deal with Gladys?” He asked anyone that would answer him.

Maureen was seemingly in her own world, as she didn’t reply. He thought that maybe he hadn’t talked loud enough, but Darlene still addressed him.

“She has a complicated past, Gladys. She’s not a cold-hearted bitch, just…” The woman cleared her throat and put her feet flat on her mat. “Some men were really pieces of shit to her when she was young. She doesn’t trust them.”

“But she’s your friend.”

“She’s a great friend, indeed”.

They stayed silent for a minute. Miranda came to them, and asked them to put their feet up in the air, ready to do the candle pose. Maureen lifted her legs in the air effortlessly, as Darlene. Roy grunted and tried to mimic them, but his torso was still half on the ground, abs and hamstring straining a little. Even if he had made some progress, some days he felt like he was still a rigid stick of flesh and bones. Miranda eyed him with encouragement. “You’re doing good, kiddo! Keep these feet up and stretch your legs! Just like that!”

When she left them to go back to the front of the room, they collectively let their legs hit the floor at once. 

“Oh, thank fuck.” Roy breathed heavily, wincing as he felt his abs clenching beneath his hands. 

Maureen giggled and stretched her arms above her head.

Darlene poorly hid a yawn in her shoulder. “Oh gosh, sorry, Miranda’s killing me tonight. Anyway. Tell me, Neville Tightbottom... Any lucky girl in your life, to benefit from your new flexibility?”

She wiggled her brow and gave a little shimmy lying on her mat. Roy thought she looked like a fish fighting for oxygen on a boat’s deck. 

Still, he made an effort to answer, as she made herself more approachable, if not friendly.

“No, I don’t.”

Darlene opened her mouth but didn’t reply. Maybe he should try again.

“Well, I mean, there’s a girl…”

“Ahah! I knew it! A dark and handsome man like you must have an army of birds flying after him!”

Roy felt the blood rushing to his cheeks.

“Aw, you’re blushing!” Maureen said a little bit too loudly.

Miranda threw a look at them and they sat down in a hurry, doing the lotus pose with a cringe. 

Darlene tried to bend her leg but gave up in a huff. “Oh god, my joints aren’t what they were…”

Roy tightened his teeth but persevered. His knee would have to kill him later. 

“So, the girl?” Maureen asked in a hush. 

He sighed but knew he’d said too much already. “Her name’s Keeley. She’s…nice.”

Well, that was not a lie, was it? But Keeley wasn’t really nice, at least only if she liked you. She was rather fierce, generous and funny. And sexy as fucking hell. Good god, just thinking about her for too long could give him a stiffy if he wasn’t careful. But he couldn’t really say that to these women, right? 

“Nice, heh? That’s what the youngsters say these days?” Darlene cackled and shook her head. “No man likes a girl because she’s _nice._ The only nice thing about girls is their rack or their bum. If the man’s lucky, the girl has both. So, what is it exactly?”

He pinched his lips and bit down a grunt. 

“Oh boy, you made him angry! Be careful Darlene, I thought he was beginning to like you but now I’m not so sure…” Maureen smirked and straightened her legs in front of her.

“She is nice! And pretty.” Roy mumbled. 

“Mmmh. Right.”

He glared at Darlene, daring her to finish her thought. But Maureen, the traitress, kept pushing on this particular button.

“Darlene’s right. What’s your deal with this Keeley? Is she a trollop? That’s why you won’t commit?”

“What the fuck! No! She’s just… She doesn’t like me like that.”

The women looked at each other and began to laugh like hyenas. Around them, the other ladies were standing up slowly. The lesson must be over… Gladys walked past them, waving at the girls before lowering some fingers to acknowledge Roy in a rude gesture. 

“For real, though.” Maureen carried on a soft voice. “She’s got a lad already, eh?”

Roy nodded without a word, and Darlene put a hand on his shoulder. If he couldn’t have the girl of his dreams with him, it was still pretty nice to have these ladies as his friends.

  
  
  


*4*

  
  


“Hey Kentucky, we’ve got a problem.”

To say that Roy was surprised to hear Gladys talking to him was an euphemism. She was standing right in the entrance of the studio, arms crossed against her chest and a frown that could rival Roy’s on his worst day. He didn’t really understand, as he was, in fact, more than fifteen minutes early, courtesy of Coach Beard, as Ted Lasso was still a little depressed since his wife and kid left to go back to the US. 

Even after a couple of months of attendance, the woman had never uttered a word to him. She largely preferred to stare at him from afar, treating him like the scum of the earth. Maureen had effectively told him she hated men, but he was still in awe of her tenacity. If only because they were both Maureen’s friends and that, even if he wasn’t that friendly - he was still Roy Kent after all - he had made several efforts to be at least pleasant. He had figured a long time ago that if this army of retired ladies took a shine to him, he wouldn’t have to change studios. And… Would he dare say it? He, well... he liked them. They were pretty simple to talk to, didn’t think he was the shit because he was a decent football player, they liked him for _him._ They all kinda reminded him of his nan. With their benevolent smiles, the biscuits and scones they made him every so often (Judith made a lovely Victoria sponge for Louise’s birthday and she gave two slices to Roy, two!). And that one time Sharon knitted him a hat and gloves! Well, it was the middle of June, but _still._ That, and he rather liked the gossip. God only knew how much shit happened in retirement homes or londonian suburbs. He now knew enough of their stories to write a fucking soap opera. Move aside, Eastenders, the real shit is way more fucking mental than your own stupid little storylines. 

“Hello to you too Gladys. How can I help you?”

She lifted her eyebrow while the corners of her mouth twitched.

“Don’t get your knickers in a twist. I still don’t like you.”

“Glad to hear it. Now what’s the problem?”

Gladys let him pass him by, then fell into step with him. 

“It’s Maureen. She’s… Well, I’ll show you.”

Soon, they reached the door to the studio and Gladys turned the handle, letting Roy see or himself.

Maureen was in the child pose, sitting on her knees, laying face down on the floor, arms against her sides. Roy could hear her sobs from there, and see her shaking from time to time. Her pink hair seemed to have lost some of its flair, and she was wearing a black ensemble like she was in mourning. 

“She’s been here for an hour. I think.”

“What the bloody hell happened?” Roy turned to Gladys, hands on his hips. 

Some part of him really hoped it was a fucking prank, otherwise he’d have to have a word with somebody, and soon. 

Apparently, Gladys thought the same, because the face that she was making would frighten the most psychopathic serial killers. Yet, instead of shaking in his sneakers, Roy could only feel admiration in that moment. 

“Her _husband._ ” Gladys said in a sneer, still watching her friend from the doorstep. “The fucking tosser was apparently cheating on her for ages. And he must have found the ultimate pussy, because he asked for a fucking divorce yesterday.”

She tightened her jaw and lowered her gaze to the wooden floor. “It was their fortieth anniversary.”

“What a fucking prick!” Roy couldn’t formulate his anger properly, lost for words. Instead, he took a step backwards and without saying anything else, swinged his arm until his fist connected with the wall. A large dent decorated the wall next to a watercolour poster of “Without inner peace, outer peace is impossible”. 

As he shook his fist from the pain, she snorted with bitter laughter. “I know, right?”

He breathed through his nose and closed his eyes, as Miranda taught them when they would feel their emotions submerge them. 

In the back of his mind, he thought he felt a hand on his shoulder, grounding him back to the present. 

The hand squeezed him once, then twice, before letting him go.

“Me and the girls are taking Maureen for a drink tomorrow night. You’re coming.”

“I can’t.”

“What are you saying?” 

Oh, fuck. Gladys was coming back to the hating Roy train with a force. One look at her and he could discern all of her rage directed at him.

“You can’t move your tight little arse for a friend in need? I really hope you have a good excuse to not come, you self-centered selfish wanker!”

Ugh. How should he put it, without Gladys shouting at him anymore?

“I’ve got a match tomorrow. We’re leaving for Liverpool in the morning.”

“Ugh, men! You’re all the same, never here when we need you,” she said, shoving her finger in his torso. The sharp edge of her fingernail pierced through his threadbare t-shirt, scratching him. Roy was certain she was adding too much force, sure to make him bleed. He would not give her the satisfaction to wince, but he still ground his teeth. 

He should give her number to Rebecca, she could probably use her to get rid of a certain ex-husband, and for free. 

“Look. I’m the bloody captain of the team. I can’t ditch them for this! The only reason I’d be able not to go would if my dad was suddenly dead. But as he’s a cockroach, I’m pretty sure he’s immortal.”

Gladys harrumphed and shook her head.

“Well then, if you’re _that_ important to your mates, maybe we should go without you indeed.”

Roy rubbed a hand on his face and sighed heavily.

“I’m free on Saturday night. Do you think you could wait for me? I’d like to be there.”

Gladys gave him a look that clearly said “Really?”, so Roy crossed his arms and straightened his back. He was standing his ground as much as he could. 

“You sure you wanna come?’’ Gladys asked with a twist on her lips. “Cause I was planning on taking the girls to the G-A-Y. You know of it?”

Oh fuck. He wondered why he was even surprised by the idea. 

“Don’t know any gay bar nearer than this one at least?” He grunted with a pout.

Because if he had to go to a gay bar, he’d like to not have an hour commute to go back home at the end of the night. 

“Are you sure you’re not the cranky old one between the two of us? And cheer up, it’s drag night!”

Well. That was a battle he could not win, could he?

  
  


*Interlude*

The music was so loud, Roy felt his head throbbing in tune with the bass. He prayed for the ibuprofen to kick in the next ten minutes, otherwise his night would end before it could properly begin. The subdued lights weren’t helping either. With the purple walls and the stroboscopic lights, Roy felt like he was in a psychotic cartoon. Maybe with a drink or two, he would be able to see pink elephants dancing. 

The girls were already there, hidden in a corner, or as hidden as a group of a dozen of sixty-year-old ladies could be. Even Miranda came! Well, Roy gathered that the yoga class was officially cancelled. A part of him was relieved, he never did well with truancy.

“Well, look at that! The football prodigy is finally here!”

Gladys raised her glass to him and took a sip, never taking her eyes off him. At her side, Maureen was nursing her second pint of beer at least, as she was already way past the tipsy stage. Was he really that late?

Roy looked at his watch, only thirty minutes since the official start of the evening. So, it would be _that_ kind of night, it would seem.

“If I understand it correctly, the plan is getting Maureen completely rat-arsed tonight?”

Gladys nodded as Maureen began to lean a little too much on her shoulder. 

“We’re here to make her forget her problems. We don’t make choices for her, if she wants to be pissed, we’ll be here to help her puke in the toilet.”

“But she’ll miss the queens!” Darlene cried in anguish. “We can’t let that happen! They’re absolutely fabulous!”

“Don’t worry, the night’s young. She has time to sober up.”

With these words, Gladys stood up and left her seat to Roy. “I’m going to get some crisps. Want anything? A stout, dark like your soul?”

He snickered and nodded lightly. “Yes, thank you.”

“Noooo !” Maureen shouted, startling all of the table. Darlene guffawed in her bloody Mary, and Judith took Maureen’s drink for herself. The woman didn’t even notice, too happy to take part in Roy and Gladys’s conversation. “Sex on the beach! Give him a Sex on the beach!” 

And she was back in a peal of laughter, head tilted back and shoulders shaking like a Disney villain. Gladys quickly came back and put the beer in front of Roy before sitting down, munching on crisps like a hamster. 

“If only there was someone to give _me_ sex on the beach,” Darlene mumbled before finishing off her drink.

“Grand idea indeed,” a deep voice uttered behind Roy’s back.

He startled as a hand landed on his shoulder, his beer splattered on the table.

“Desdemona!” greeted Gladys with delight. “How wonderful to see you there!”

Roy watched the scene with awe. He seemed to be the only one surprised though, as no one else batted an eyelash at the intrusion. And since when did Gladys even know how to smile?

The Desdemona in question appeared by his side, flicking her hair behind her shoulder. She was tall, with a light stubble on her cheeks and a blonde wig coiffed to perfection. Blue eyeshadow adorned her eyelids and a rosy lipstick coloured her full lips. She looked fantastic. Her dress though, had a 90s vibe that took Roy back to his teenage years. It was a little off shoulder black dress which highlighted long legs in black pointy heels. 

“That’s Lady Desdemona to you, Gladys,” the drag queen glanced at Roy through her lashes, a smile on her lips. “Or Lady D, for my friends. And what about you, Darling? How should I call you tonight?” She leaned into him to whisper, “Should I call you mine?”

Roy felt the fire in his cheeks as he choked on his beer. 

“Deedee, please! Let the poor boy alone! His heart is already taken,” Maureen cooed at Roy. 

Oh gosh, was it really that hot in this club? He should have left his leather jacket at home. His ears and his neck were surely as red as a ripe tomato.

“My, my! Is he blushing?” Desdemona exclaimed in a delighted smile. 

“Roy! Did you forget to tell us something?” Darlene asked in a pout. 

Gladys sighed, already done with this, whereas Judith, Sharon, Miranda and all the others stopped their conversations to look at him. Maureen turned fully towards him, hope in her glossy eyes. 

“Something happened with this girl you like? Keeley, was it?”

Ugh. Lady D took a seat next to Darlene, pushing her friend and all the ladies until she could sit correctly on the bench. She put her elbows on the table, head on her hands like a bloody teenager. 

“I thought she already had a boyfriend?” Miranda asked from the other side of the table, before taking a sip of her drink with a straw. 

Roy wondered how many things he told Maureen and Darlene were discussed with the other women when he wasn’t there. He was beginning to wonder if there wasn’t a text chain he was not a part of but that he was surely the main subject of. 

“Come on then, tell us!” Darlene begged, soon joined by the other ladies. He didn’t have a choice, right?

He took a deep breath and began to talk, under the scrutiny of his fellow yoga mates. 

“She broke up with Jamie a couple days ago. Jamie’s another footballer, Jamie Tartt. Really good player, but real shithead. The kind that could put Piers Morgan to shame.”  
“Worse than him? Oh dear…” Desdemona winced and shuddered at the same time. Well, at least they both thought the same. 

“And? What happened, did you make a move on her? Did you woo her like a proper gentleman?”

Roy smiled at Darlene’s genuine question. She seemed rather invested, like all the others. Even Gladys was listening, still looking intently in her glass like it held all the answers to the universe. Roy was amused and touched all at once, despite the fact that she was playing aloof and disinterested. She wasn’t fooling anyone, as Maureen poked her with her elbow.

“She came with us to Liverpool. After the match, we went to karaoke… “

“What did she sing?” asked Judith, a dreamy look on her face. 

“Girls just wanna have fun. And she’s surprisingly not that bad! Well, after that, I took her back to her room…”

“Oh my god you shagged her, you sleazy arse!” Darlene cried out with a beam. Because, of course she did. 

“What the fuck Darlene! Fuck no!”

“Keep going honey,” Lady D said, patting Roy on the arm. “I’m sure you’re not the kiss and tell type anyway.” She threw a dark look at her friend, who toyed with the foot of her empty glass, properly chastised. 

Roy rolled his shoulders then sighed. “That’s the thing though. We kissed.”

The ladies were observing him with big round eyes, quiet. 

“And…?” asked Gladys, brows furrowed. “What happened then?”

Roy shrugged and drank the last of his stout. “And nothing.”

Maureen gasped dramatically. “Nothing? What do you mean, _nothing_?” 

“Well, we kissed, I bid her good night and got back to my room.”

“That’s it? But that’s a travesty! I thought you liked her!” Darlene put a hand on her heart, completely outraged by the situation. 

“Yes, of course I do!”

Desdemona put an arm around her friend to comfort her. “Please, Darlene, you see that he’s the perfect gentleman…”

“Ugh, a gentleman, right!” She snorted unhappily. At the other side of the table, Judith was biting her nails while Miranda was eating it all up. Bloody vultures. 

Gladys carried on. “You asked her on a date then?” 

“Not yet, no.”

“What the fuck are you waiting for?” 

”Well, she asked me if I was available tonight but…” Cries of annoyance mounted around the table. 

“Roy! We were rooting for you!”

Darlene shook her head in disapproval. 

“Useless moron”, she said, “that’s what you are.”

“Hey!”

“Why did you say no?” asked Maureen, gently. Roy scratched the table with a nail, avoiding the eyes of his companions. 

“Because my friend needed me.”

Darlene moaned loudly. “Ugh. Disgusting.” 

Maureen beamed at him, before lowering her eyes and biting her lips. Her rosy cheeks betrayed her shy pleasure at his attention. Gladys glanced at Roy with something akin to respect on her face. 

Plus, Keeley would understand, right? 

  
  
  


*5*

  
  


“There’s nothing to be nervous about, you know.”

Roy grunted but squeezed Keeley’s hand. Nervous? No, he wasn’t, not so much. Terrified, more like. 

He hadn’t seen any of his lady friends since he fucked his knee during the Premier League final. He still had some trouble walking if he stood up for too long, feeling the pain in all of his left leg on his worst days. 

His physio had given him the green light to get back to yoga, but football was a no-go. Roy Kent was officially an has-been player. A thing of the past. Of course, his now ex-teammates were still happy to see him, but they were busy with the new season, and Roy missed having some semblance of normalcy in his life. Well, a normalcy for him, anyway. So when his doctor told him he could go back in the studio to do some poses without doing too much, he began to doubt himself. Should he go back to Maureen, Darlene, Gladys and the others? Six months had passed, afterall. Maybe he should just quit altogether. But Keeley would not budge. Roy was miserable in his house and he needed to get out and have a social life. There was only so much she and Phoebe could do! And now, she had had enough of his moping and whining about his too long days of therapy and TV. So he’d better move his pretty juicy bottom to _Yoga to feel it_ , or the thing he would feel would be Keeley’s foot right into his precious arse. 

But what if he failed? What if he tried to do any simple pose, simpler than the ones he’d done on his very first lesson, and still failed like a child? Oh god, could he even sit on his knees to do the child pose? (Yes, he could, he was just being overly dramatic.)

“Come on, babe! I bought these fancy yoga pants just for the occasion, and these lessons will be the only time you’ll get to see me bend over in them.”

 _That_ was an incentive indeed. She was dressed head to toe in yoga gear, light blue lycra top and pants with a high bun on her head. Her slim figure had made a couple of men turn their eyes on her as they walked by them on the way over. Roy could have been jealous if he didn’t know that she was dressed like that, for him. But fortunately, Keeley knew how to handle a jealous Roy, and had preemptively assured him of her love for him this morning. Twice.

She pulled him by the hand and entered the building, taking it all in. 

The studio was still the same. Roy didn’t know how the owner could have made any significant change in the six months he didn’t come in, but he foolishly hoped that the studio was better than his memories. Keeley smiled when she passed a gaudy Namaste poster and shook her head when Roy didn’t want to move his feet anymore. He looked right ahead, crossed his arms on his chest and tightened his jaws when he saw one of the ladies with bright pink hair and big round shiny eyes.

“Hello! Can I help you?” the woman asked with a rough voice.

At his side, Keeley squealed. “Oh my god! Are you Maureen?”

Roy jumped at the name, and lowered his eyes on his feet. He didn’t see the large smile that graced Maureen’s face as she took a step towards them.

“And you’re Keeley?”

Keeley nodded happily, big earrings bouncing up and down, and she swatted Roy’s arm with the back of her hand. 

“You talked about me! Roy, you didn’t say that they knew about me!”

Maureen chuckled at the display and went to hug Keeley like she was her long-time friend. 

“Of course we know about you. He couldn’t shut up about his beautiful lady friend who had a, how did you put it, Roy? A shithead as a boyfriend? Worse than Piers Morgan!”

Keeley gasped and hit him again on his arm. Thankfully she didn’t have too much strength and he had enough muscles on his biceps, otherwise he would bruise like peach, and not in a nice way.

“Roy! How could you! I’ve got good taste in men, please! Otherwise I wouldn’t be with you.”

“To be quite honest, that’s what would worry me if I were you,” said a new voice, drily.

Roy groaned before a fleeting smile finally appeared on his mouth.

“Gladys, still a pleasure to see you.”

“Kentucky”, she said, greeting him somberly. Her dark eyes stared at him for a second, before softening. She bit her lips to keep herself from smiling but Roy could swear he saw a dimple in her right cheek anyway.

Maureen turned back to him and hugged him too. 

“We missed you, you know,” she whispered in his ear. “Especially Darlene.”

“Roy! My love!” 

Speaking of the devil! There she was, in all her glory. Maureen released Roy from her arms and Darlene ran to him like he was a beacon of light in her darkest days.

“How could you think to abandon me in the clutch of these witches? Why didn't you come to save me from the dragon! I waited for so long, I was in despair…” She cried out in a melodramatic fashion. 

Bloody hell. Barbara Knox and Eileen Derbyshire would be so jealous.

“Darlene…”

“You’re the trusty steed that I would mount to take me away! Your arse of steel is my only hope!”

Roy facepalmed as Keeley did indeed bend over, but only from laughter. If he’d thought that things had changed in the last six months, now he was reassured that it wasn’t the case. 

“Come on then, love.” Maureen said, taking Keeley by the arm. “The lesson will start soon. And you don’t want to miss the beginning, otherwise Miranda will throw a bloody fit. And nobody’s eardrums are ready to hear it.”

Keeley looked above her shoulder and grinned at Roy, wiggling her eyebrow at him. Gladys fell into step with them without a word, soon joined by Darlene, after she gave him a last once-over, lingering on his pecs.

Biting back a smile, Roy followed. 


End file.
